


Baby-Proofing with Belle

by andachippedcup



Series: Domestic Belle [16]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 04:10:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/670122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andachippedcup/pseuds/andachippedcup





	Baby-Proofing with Belle

Rumplestiltskin knows that over the course of his life, he has made many mistakes. Particularly in the parenting department. So this time around, he’s bound and determined to take no chances. There will be no risks taken; everything  _will_  and  _must_  be _perfect_.

So, that’s why he decides to surprise Belle by having the entire pink house baby-proofed from top to bottom while she’s away at the library for the day. He hires a contractor (no point in dabbling with such trifles when he can hire someone; money, after all, is no object to Rumplestiltskin and he’s forbidden from using magic, so a contractor it is) and a few bills and hours later and it’s done.

The edges of every remotely sharp surface (the coffee tables in particular) are padded. The toilet has a lid lock on it. Every electrical outlet in the house features outlet covers with sliding panels to prevent electrocution. Every room the child shouldn’t be allowed in is outfitted with a doorknob lock. Magnetic latches adorn every cabinet and drawer and additionally, every vertical object that could fall on the infant has been anchored to the wall in some form or fashion.

Even the dishwasher has had an additional external latch added to keep the baby from getting into sharp utensils and detergent. Every medication has a smart lock and the chemicals have been cordoned off in cabinets kept high up and locked for additional protection. And every area that could be a problem area (such as the kitchen, laundry room, hallway, and the stairs) are all barricaded with a baby gate.

Honestly, he’s rather happy about the last one, mostly because it means the damn pig will be trapped at some point in its wretched existence. And for good measure, he’s even had a lock installed on the little doggy door that Belle had put in for the ham hock. The little thing will have to get used to waiting for the sensor on its collar to open the door because Rumplestiltskin is not about to risk his child crawling out the pig’s door and making it out into the backyard and all the untold dangers lurking out there.

When he gets the call that the house has been newly outfitted, he leaves the shop briefly and heads home to investigate, surveying his handiwork (well, he paid for it, so it’s his in a sense) proudly. Then, just as all his reading recommends, he gets down on the floor at baby level and checks each room for any overlooked dangers.

He’ll have to get the external doors set to automatically close. And all the interior doors will need cushioning to prevent tiny fingers from being slammed inside them. He calls the contractor back and has him turn around to come add those features to the house and returns to work a satisfied man and father-to-be. He’s convinced Belle will be thrilled with his surprise and the initiative he’s taken in protecting their child.

——-

Belle loves being pregnant. To be fair she’s still in her first trimester and not even really showing (however she has grown a few centimeters thank-you-very-much). But still. She loves it. Loves it with every fiber of her being. The knowledge that there is a life inside of her, that she protects something so innocent and so pure? It brings her joy unlike any she’s ever known. She is a mother and her child is growing within her.

Honestly, it’s everything beautiful and natural and right and she  _loves_  it.

So when she comes home early from the library, a pair of new books slung under her arm and her purse on the other, she’s in a rather cheerful mood. She unlocks the front door, pausing for a moment to admire a new blossom on the bush by the front door. When she unlocks the front door, however, her clumsy habits resurface and she drops one of the books and must stoop to retrieve it – only to have the front door slam shut on her rear end and knock her off balance and stumbling into the front room until she regains her balance, all a-fluster.

The door has closed. On its own. The door is not supposed to close on its own. The door is supposed to close when she closes it. This is not right. But no, this must be in her head. Magic is back but Rumplestiltskin has protected their home more than she can fathom. She is just imagining things, surely.

Still, Belle’s fingers hover over the buttons on her cell phone as she walks uneasily further into the room. The kitchen is her next stop and she walks inside to find that all is well. She can’t help but huff a sigh of relief. Tea, she thinks, will most certainly calm her nerves. She can set the kettle to boil now and have a cup presently and another when her husband gets home.

Except, when she goes to fetch the kettle, the cabinet door won’t open. She tries once. She tries twice. She tries three times and tugs and tugs and tugs to no avail. And it isn’t just the cabinet bearing the tea kettle; every door she tries on every cabinet is locked tight. She can’t even get the refrigerator open.

Her kitchen is possessed.

This is a problem.

Instantly, Belle is on her guard, rather convinced that her house has been outfitted with booby traps of some sort or maybe a curse. Still, she doesn’t want to overreact so instead of calling her husband and panicking him, she calls the next best thing; her best friend.

“Ruby.” Belle whispers, standing awkwardly in the front room. “My front door just closed.  _By itself_. I think it’s cursed. And none of the cabinets or drawers in my kitchen will open.” She confides and hears muffled laughter on the other line.

“Belle, I’m sure it isn’t cursed. It was probably just the wind, that’s all. As for the kitchen… maybe the paint is sticking?” Ruby hazards a guess; after all, it was a bit muggy out today. “But if you really want me to come over and check it out, I can. Wolf senses and all; I can tell you who’s been around the house?” Ruby offers.

But no, Ruby is right. It was probably just the wind. And Rum  _has_ been talking about making changes to the house; little hints, here and there but nothing concrete. Maybe he had the kitchen painted to surprise her? She honestly doesn’t see a difference in the cabinet color but maybe it is supposed to be a subtle color change. If the cabinets were painted, perhaps the paint has them stuck shut. Yes, that makes sense. Either way, she’s being silly and jumpy. No need to bother Ruby any more than she already has.

“No, no you’re right. I’ll be fine, I’m just overreacting. Hormones and all… Thank you.”  Belle finishes up with her friend and hangs up the phone to conserve what little battery she has left (ever since Rum showed her that she could play scrabble on it, her phone is getting a great deal more use). She practically drained the battery today playing a rather intense game with Granny.

Belle goes to the bathroom to splash some water on her face and freshen up. The cool water feels good on her clammy skin and she’s feeling much better when she tries to flip the toilet lid up so she can use the restroom.

But the lid won’t budge. It’s stuck shut by some strange contraption and though she fiddles with it, Belle is entirely unable to figure it out and so, the toilet remains closed and Belle’s bladder remains full. Delightful. Really.

She finds herself returning to the kitchen (albeit it timidly) to plug the phone in to charge (it took her a while to get the hang of it but Rum was terribly patient in explaining the inner workings of ‘cell phones’ to her). When she tries to plug the charger in though, it won’t go. Something is blocking the plug and at this point, Belle is getting not only fearful, but  _angry_. Her anger only grows as she searches the house for a plug only to find that they’ve all been similarly blocked. Belle’s face turns red and there’s a scowl fixed on her face now.

Whatever is blocking the plug is coming out. Even if she has to remove it by force.

She storms off down the hall with purpose; Mr. Gold has a toolbox, or  _had_ one, rather; Rumplestiltskin hardly has need of tools, so it’s been relegated to the top shelf of the closet to collect dust. It is this toolbox she goes to fetch but she finds her path blocked by a little fence that comes up to her waist. Belle taps at it tentatively and finds that it is firmly anchored to the wall, though how exactly, she isn’t certain. Awkwardly, she climbs over the fence, unable to see any way  _through_  it, and marches on to the closet.

The closet door handle has some strange device on it. Belle hasn’t the fuzziest what it is or why it is there but whatever it is, it’s preventing her from opening the door. And if she can’t open the door, she can’t get the toolkit and if she can’t get the toolkit, she can’t get the block off of the plug and if she can’t get the block off the plug she can’t charge her phone and if she can’t charge her phone she can’t call Rum or Ruby for help.

The house is most assuredly possessed.

Belle doesn’t waste a moment more. She learns that the garage door has a similar block on the handle, but the keypad  _outside_  of the house that operates the garage door still works and so she seeks entry into her garage by that route and finds just what she needs.

An ax is, perhaps  _slightly_ over the top, but Belle is taking no chances. She marches back into the house, the ax thrown over her shoulder as she whistles a chipper little tune. Belle doesn’t know where on earth there are goggles or other protective eye wear, so she settles instead for wearing a pair of sunglasses Rumplestiltskin has given her.  _Can’t be too careful, after all._

Then she takes her ax and lifts it up over her head and brings it down with a sharp  _crack_ over the closet door’s handle. It takes a couple good strikes, but soon enough the doorknob is on the ground, along with the strange contraption that prevented the door from opening. The hellish little miniature fence that she’s had to climb over receives a similar treatment. In no time at all, the fence is mere toothpicks and Belle is once more free to walk down her own hallway unencumbered.

The ax proves useful in busting through the cabinet to get to her tea kettle, though she makes an utter mess of the kitchen, the splintered remains of the cabinet door are scattered about as she sets the tea kettle on the stove. She has to bust open another cabinet to get to her teacups (she has to be careful though, she really doesn’t need any more chipped teacups than she already has) but in the end, she’s able to get to everything she needs.

Belle is interrupted when she hears a commotion coming from the stairs. She makes her way to that side of the house, her ax at the ready as she rounds the corner to find another wretched fence, behind which poor little Hamlet the teacup pig is squealing his displeasure, trapped on the stairs and unable to get to Belle.

Needless to say, her mothering instincts kick in and she’s got the fence chopped down in moments and Hamlet in her arms, making soft cooing noises to soothe him.  _(“You poor dear!”)_  Belle is determined at that point that whatever evil has besieged her house will have to face  _her_ wrath for incurring such stress and fear upon her poor little Hammy.

And so it is that when Rumplestiltskin comes home, he finds the place in a state of rather unusual disarray, his newly installed baby gates shredded to near wood chips, and several of the doors short a few handles.

“Belle?” He calls out hesitantly, the fear plain on his voice. It’s needless though, because her answer comes swiftly and her voice is bright and calm, which it most certainly wouldn’t be if she thought anything was truly wrong.

“In the kitchen!”

He passes another splintered baby gate on his way ( _seven fucking hells what happened?_ ) and he steps into the kitchen to find his wife sipping tea from one of her teacups, seated on a blanket amidst the destruction of what was once their immaculate kitchen, the stupid bacon slice oinking happily in her lap.

“Belle, dearie… _what happened to our kitchen_?” He asks as he looks around, horrified. Belle stands and dusts herself off, walks to him and presses a kiss on his cheek.

“Nothing to worry about. I suspect Regina thought it would be funny to booby trap the house but I’ve taken care of most of it. I can’t seem to free the outlets though, so I don’t think we can use your electricity anymore.” She explains with an apologetic shrug. “Also, the toilet’s stuck closed so for now we have to use the neighbor’s.” She adds as an afterthought as she scoops up Hamlet in her arms and makes her way out of the kitchen and down the hall as if nothing at all is wrong with what she’s just said.

Rumplestiltskin bites his lip to hold back laughter and shakes his head as he surveys the ruins of his home and his efforts at baby-proofing. Apparently, he should be more worried about  _Belle-proofing_.

——-

It takes the entire evening to explain how to use all the baby-proofing mechanisms to Belle but by the end of the night, he’s confident that she can at least use the toilet seat lock and the cabinet locks successfully. The door locks and the baby gates still give her some trouble but he’s hopeful that she won’t have to resort to using the ax again. Still, to be on the safe side he goes out and buys a dozen extra doorknobs and hides the ax. Just in case. 


End file.
